


You Can Take The Radchaai Out Of The House, But You Can't Take The House Out Of The Radchaai

by JackedofSpades



Category: Imperial Radch Series - Ann Leckie
Genre: Aristocratic Seivarden, Breq not sure what to do without a gun, Ekalu Exasperation, House Snobbery, Omaugh Station extremely over this all, Other, Republic of Two Systems Independence Day Exchange, Ro2SID, Ro2SID Exchange 2020, Tisarwat Mischief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23641288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackedofSpades/pseuds/JackedofSpades
Summary: For the Ro2SID Exchange 2020! My fill for Crane_Among_Celandines! The prompt was "Seivarden shutting someone unpleasant down by being even more snobby than them."This got a little silly and the plot is there as an excuse to watch Seivarden go, but when is that ever a bad thing. Hope you like it!
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44
Collections: Republic of Two Systems Independence Day Exchange 2020





	You Can Take The Radchaai Out Of The House, But You Can't Take The House Out Of The Radchaai

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crane_Among_Celandines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crane_Among_Celandines/gifts).



Seivarden’s nostrils were flared wide enough that Tisarwat thought she could pass an almond through one without touching the sides. Her lower lip was caught between her left canines, and not in the sexy way she did when she was trying to catch Ekalu’s eye at breakfast. She didn’t appear to be breathing, but she had a history of that, and if you knew her (and looked closely) you could discern a subtle convexity to her wiry torso, chest puffed from held breath. Across the table, Tierith Ayem prattled on, blissfully unaware of the effect her words had on the last Vendaai.

“—And they _say_ the treatment isn’t useful. Useful! As if the alternative is any more appealing. No, a friend of the family, no one from our side mind you, but a branch—lower branch. Yes, a friend of the family was known to have had a similar... _hmm_ .” Tierith paused, her head bobbed to the side like a swan as her eyebrows attempted to join her hairline. “Well _you_ know personally how that is, Lieutenant.” She pointed to Seivarden. Actually pointed. 

“Yes, it seems my personal knowledge has become public knowledge.”

Tierith nodded and continued as if she hadn’t insulted Seivarden.

It was hard to believe they were on Omaugh Station again. Hard to believe Omaugh Station had allowed them to dock. But the Radch was falling, or rather imploding, in bits and stuttered pieces. The Republic of Two Systems was now one of many former Radch territories that had declared independence. The patchwork of allies needed to be knit together. With diplomacy. 

An unfortunate side effect of diplomacy, however, was the need to attend useless dinners hosted by opportunistic houses and judge their ambitions. “Power vacuums suck,” as Tisarwat had aptly explained to Seivarden on the trip over. And now Breq and her lieutenants were hostage to the Lord of House Ayem, a formerly minor house that had ascended as a result of the latest property damage to Omaugh Station. The palace didn’t even exist anymore. Politically motivated invitations to tea endured.

“Yes well, she was sick for _weeks_ and they wouldn’t take her to reeducation!” Tierith Ayem continued. “Wouldn’t listen to me, nor my aunt who had offered her a not insignificant sum to make it all go away. It was too generous, as I had said but who would listen to the Lord of the House on such matters hmm?” She laughed as if she had made a joke. Tisarwat laughed, but for her own reasons.

Why Tierith Ayem thought the story of her cousin’s lover resorting to kef as a result of the stress due to living through the rebellion against Anaander Mianaai would endear her to her current company was beyond them. Why she thought Seivarden would appreciate the reminder of her own past choices was doubly so.

“In any case, my own daughter, she’s Governor now, if you haven’t met her yet, anyway she can probably see to cleaning up the kef problem, once things are settled. And again, I cannot overstate the need to continue reeducation, regardless of any new direction we might otherwise...”

Under the table, Seivarden flexed her fingers from the tight fist they had been curled into and ticked out an irritated message to her fellow lieutenants.

_I’m going to say something._

Glazed lilac eyes flicked up from the dish of almonds on the table and met Seivarden’s. Flicked to Ekalu’s to find them narrowed in warning. Tried to catch Breq’s gaze but found her politely staring just past Tierith towards a zither mounted on the wall. 

Tisarwat’s fingers twitched. _Go on, then._

“I fucked a Governor’s daughter once.”

Ekalu sighed. Tisarwat hid a grin behind the back of her hand in mock surprise. A tea bowl hit ground and shattered. Breq turned her head as if just now becoming aware of the conversation. Tierith Ayem stopped speaking.

“Oh, begging your pardon, sometimes I still get the shakes, you know, side-effect from the _kef_ ,” Seivarden said through her teeth. She set her hand down too close to Tisarwat’s bowl, causing it to wobble threateningly. Ekalu rubbed the bridge of her nose with two gloved fingers and sighed again.

Tierith Ayem blinked in quick succession. “That’s quite all right...” she said, her voice flat, her mind working her next move. She smiled and clasped her hands together. “What’s the old saying? A broken bowl is worth more than a new one?”

“A broken bowl in loving hands is worth more than one for sale.” Seivarden said, antique accent drawling. “That’s what we said at least, a thousand years ago.”

“When Vendaai still existed,” Tierith gestured as if being helpful. 

“Before Ayem did,” Seivarden said with a sneer. While Tierith and Seivarden stared each other down, Tisarwat plucked an almond from her dish with her fingers. Ekalu admonished her as she pushed it through pursed lips.

Tierith caved first. She looked away, her smile returned as she turned to Breq. “Fleet Captain, you seem enamored with my collection.” She gestured to the zither hung on the wall. “I have more in the sitting room. Shall we?” 

The group rose like a herd of startled cats as Seivarden scraped the feet of her chair loudly against the wooden dining room floor, Breq excluded. Tierith turned away with raised eyebrows just in time to miss Tisarwat spitting an almond at Seivarden. Seivarden almost caught it. 

_Smooth_ , Tisarwat said to Seivarden.

Ekalu refused to look back as she followed Breq into the sitting room.

The small sitting room was made smaller by the amount of knickknacks and over-adorned walls. Tierith had found the effect a cozy show of status: hand-painted portraits of family members old and new, service pins hung framed between them and silk scrolls with poetry. All very clearly newly hung in apartments that must have only recently belonged to another house that had been loyal to Anaander.

“This is lovely,” Seivarden said as she wandered over to one of the silk poetry scrolls. “It’s always endearing to see the early works of children displayed out of sentiment. Reminders of before they mastered the art.”

Tierith’s expression soured. “My grandmother made that, in the year before she died.”

“Oh, really?” Seivarden said, as if that was a mildly interesting fact. “Mother had an entire room devoted to my work. Most were from before I took the aptitudes, but she was sentimental. Forgive me, I assumed work of your grandmother’s skill would have been given a greater place of prominence. But I suppose you can’t expect the same degree of civility nowadays.” She sniffed, and folded her hands behind her back. “For many reasons.”

Ekalu sat on the couch without fanfare, her gaze wandering across the room as if she were searching for one of Station’s console interfaces. Tisarwat had brought the bowl of almonds with her and ate them while taking in Tierith’s expression.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean. Such outdated ideas! Reminds me so much of the old ways. The tyranny of empire.” She shot Breq a smile hoping to gain a nod of approval. Breq only stared. “In any case, my grandmother gave it to my mother, and she gave it to me. It’s a beautiful piece. I believe she made it based on a song she had composed earlier in her life.” Tierith looked to Breq again as if goading her to take her side. 

Breq gave her a shrug, pointed to woven fiberwork on the opposite wall and asked, “Is that piece from Nilt?”

Tierith lit up at the change of subject. “It is! Aren’t the colors so wonderfully vibrant? A lovely piece a client bought me. Such a long way away, Nilt. I hear it’s beautiful in Summer.”

Seivarden snorted. “It’s not.”

Tierith turned back to Seivarden, her face steeled for another round. “Begging your pardon. Have you been to Nilt, or are you accomplished in fiberworks as well, Lieutenant?”

Breq caught Seivarden’s gaze and held it. Finally, Seivarden said, “I’ve visited, yes.”

“It’s not really fake, so much as manufactured to seem authentic,” Breq said matter-of-factly. “It _is_ genuinely from Nilt.”

Tisarwat looked very much as if she wanted to add her own commentary, but Ekalu shook her head and put a hand on her thigh to still her.

“Same with those tacky scraps of paper. Fake.” Seivarden pointed to an arrangement of vestiges.

Tierith stomped her foot. “Honestly now! Those are directly from Tyr Siilas. Took over two years to ship here! They are ancient travel passes, dating back from the first instance of Radchaai visitation to the system! If I wasn’t a gracious host, I might assume you were trying to insult me, Seivarden Vendaai.”

“No, those are fake,” Tisarwat said. Ekalu threw a hand in the air. “Everything out of that system is fake. The souvenirs. The government. The genders. All of it.” She popped another almond into her mouth and shrugged her shoulders as if that settled it.

“Where even is Hwae?” Ekalu asked as if she rather regretted it.

“Very far,” Tisarwat gestured dismissal. “It’s of no consequence. It’s why we never bothered with it.”

Tierith looked as if she was debating the cost of throwing them all out. She was visibly flustered. Her light tan skin showed a small flush dusting her cheeks.

“I wouldn’t feel too embarrassed,” Seivarden said with an aristocratic tilt of her head, tone measured to sound sympathetic. “New houses don’t have the eye for such things. It takes centuries of collection and curation. You’ve done a fine job, with what you had available.”

Later, when Seivarden was pouring Breq’s tea in their lodgings the next day, Breq said, “You didn’t have to be so snobbish to Tierith Ayem.”

“Yes, Breq.” Seivarden smiled as she placed a hand over the kettle’s lid and poured a second cup for herself with a flourish.

“Seivarden.”

“Oh come now, we knew she was harmless early enough and it was fun. Being back on Omaugh… I got nostalgic.”

Breq took the cup of tea when Seivarden offered it to her. She took a sip and remained thoughtful for a moment.

“Well in any case, you’ll have to accompany Tisarwat to her meeting with the governor. Keep her from causing a different sort of trouble.”

“You overestimate me, as usual, Breq.”

“As if I would allow them to all be in the same room at once with my governor,” Omaugh Station said through a console.

Breq finished her tea and set down her chipped bowl. Seivarden filled it again with the same flourish and pride as she had the first and smiled as Breq cupped the bowl, absently enjoying the warmth while her mind was elsewhere.


End file.
